


7 Hours 44 Minutes After

by thatgirlinredandgold



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlinredandgold/pseuds/thatgirlinredandgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 hours and 44 minutes after, Jemma Simmons finds herself sitting by his bedside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	7 Hours 44 Minutes After

**Author's Note:**

> While going through some old, unpublished FitzSimmons fics I had written, a stumbled upon this little piece and basically thought, well hey this isn't too bad. It's actually part of a longer fic that I wrote last summer which was a speculation about what would happen to FitzSimmons during season 2. Needless to say, it was pretty far off. But I thought this opening piece still fit in quite well. I might post the rest of what I have written, or at least bits and pieces of it. Let me know what you think!

She’s trying not to think about how still he is, about how if it weren’t for the small rise and fall of his chest or the constant beeping of machines he would look as if he were dead. They had said they were doing all that they can, but even a S.H.I.E.L.D medical team has it's limits, and this seemed to be it.

As she slowly eases herself into the chair beside his bed, she realizes that she still feels as if she’s drowning, trapped 90 feet below the surface and completely and utterly hopeless. She hates this, every single second of it. She hates feeling useless, hates the fact that, try as she might, she could not fix this. She hates the doctors and nurses who told her what to expect if he woke up, the ones who listed the numerous possible effects with a cold indifference, the ones who pretended as if she hadn’t known them the second she surfaced and saw Fitz just as cold and still as he was in that damn bed. She hates that she had walked away practically unscathed while his recovery stood firmly as nothing more than a possibility. She hates that he had been a hero again, hates that he was stupid, and senseless, and far too good to be her friend, and yet, he was the one that was dying.

It’s not fair.

She leans forward to entwine his hand with her own and tries not to think about how cold they are. “You were right, Fitz.” She says finally, running her thumb across the back of his hand. “Just like 100 hundred punches to the stomach... except it’s not going away.”

She pauses for a moment, almost as if waiting for a response that she knows isn’t coming, before continuing with one more shuddering breath. “Please be okay, Fitz.”

It’s useless to plead like this, and she knows it. But it’s taking everything she has to stop herself from crying, and she’s certain that if she stops talking she might not be able to hold it together for much longer.

“Remember our first year at the Academy?” Again, she pauses. It’s much easier to pretend she’s having a conversation with her best friend than to face the fact that she is talking to herself and her comatose friend is merely present. “Before we were friends, you took it upon yourself to ensure that you were at the top of the class. Couldn’t have two super geniuses running around, could we? No, you had to be the best. You even took that stupid organic chem class just to prove that you were smarter than me in all branches of science. You had to beat me to answer every question, or do better on every test. And don’t pretend like I didn’t see you in the library at ungodly hours with your nose stuck in that text book. But I guess in the end it all worked out. That final was brutal, but you managed to make a half point higher than me. How many all-nighters did you have to pull for that one, Fitz?”

She waits for some kind of retort, a snort of indignation, a teasing quip, anything. Instead, she fills in the silence with what she knows he would say if he could. “Well, of course, I did the exact same thing. The very next semester I was in the front row of some engineering tech class and feeling incredibly out of place. But I couldn’t let you win, could I? I remember how surprised you were, and then you just started laughing. God, you were so infuriating.”

The tears were coming back, so she grips his hand even tighter. “It wasn’t until I nearly failed the first exam that I realized just how ridiculous we were being. There we were, arguably the two smartest students at the Academy, certainly the youngest, and acting precisely like the children we were.” She’s trying to quiet her shaking breaths, still determined not to cry. “But I’m glad I took that class, Fitz, because if I hadn’t I never would have had to knock on your door in the middle of the night and beg you to help me. And let me just say, I have never seen you so smug, not even that time at SciOps when-” She’s crying now, and now that she’s started, she’s not sure if she’ll be able to stop. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that taking that God awful class was the best decision I ever made, because if I hadn’t, I never would have realized how brilliant you were. I never would have known what a team we would make, or what it’s like to have a best friend.”

She smiles softly, though it doesn’t really meet her eyes. “But you’re more than that Fitz, and I hope you know that. We’re partners, you and me. Two halves of a whole. So please, please get better. I’m not sure I can be Fitzsimmons without you.”

There’s a small knock on the door, and she hears one of the doctors clear his throat before speaking. “Agent Simmons? Your team is here.”

She looks up slowly, and tries to wipe away a few last stray tears. “I’ll be there shortly.”

He nods before turning on his heel and moving swiftly away, allowing her a few more moments of privacy.

She leans forward to kiss his forehead, and gives his hand one final squeeze. “I’ll be back soon, Fitz. I promise.”

 


End file.
